


Forever

by foamoftheheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:39:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6233620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foamoftheheart/pseuds/foamoftheheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa died, and Clarke didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Lexa's spirit visits Clarke in the night and stays long enough for one last kiss

_“My fight is over Clarke.”_

_“No. Don’t say that. Don’t you fucking dare leave like that! I won’t let you…” Clarke said, shaking her head, tears digging furrows on her cheeks. Her shoulders were slumped, not able to hold the world’s weight anymore._

_“You were right Clarke. Life is about more than just surviving.”_

_“No no no, Lexa. Lexa please, you’re stronger than this.” Clarke choked out, not able to contain her tears. “I…I love you. You can’t leave. Come on don’t do this. We were supposed to do this together. We were supposed to live together.“_

_Lexa was crying now, her green eyes full of sorrow, and pain, and love. So much love._

_“You can’t leave. You can’t leave me…” Clarke repeated, her heart breaking and dissolving and cracking and…_

_“NO!” Clarke screamed. “NO! Wake up Lexa, wake up!_

_Lexa’s eyes had stopped moving. Her heart had stopped beating. Her body was completely limp, her face blank of any emotions…and the world was finally and irrevocably crashing down around Clarke…._

She gasped, jerking awake, sweat dripping from her face, remains of tears on her cheeks, panting. She buried her head in her hands, tasting salt on the tip of her lips. She hit the bed with her fist, anger slowly building up, bitterness invading her heart, bitterness at the world, at Lexa, at Titus, at herself, at fucking everything.

She pushed the covers, groaning in frustration, wanting to get the rage she felt out of her system. Stepping out of bed, she started pacing, mumbling incomprehensible things, tightening her fists. But she felt cornered, restricted, the room was too small. She needed air, she needed to breathe.

She rushed out, the soldiers guarding her room briefly glancing at her, but not daring stopping her. Her feet were now moving by themselves, guiding her, carrying her, to somewhere, someplace, a place she knew by heart.

And they kept moving forward, walking. Her night dress trailing behind, the only sound echoing in the empty corridors being the small tapping of her feet against the hard stone.

And suddenly she was in front of _her_ room. The room where everything had gone to absolute shit. She opened the doors, taking in the room. It had not changed. The chair where Murphy had sit was still there, blindfolds laying on the ground in front of it. The black stains of dried blood covering the bed, the candles put out, her last drawings spread across the small table.

She thought about Lexa. About how the girl had made Clarke love her, love her green eyes, her compassionate heart, her intelligence, her beauty, her elegance and softness. How she had left her, all alone, with the ghosts of the mountain, and their people, and so many lives to protect.

How she had left, after all the promesses and soft whispers thrown into the night, and all the small but oh so _meaningful_ touches.

How she had left an absolute burning hole in Clarke’s heart.

How Lexa had got to leave all this mess, leaving her behind, all alone, all alone against herself and the entire world.

She suddenly roared, the rage inside bursting out, not wanting to hide itself in the depths of Clarke’s heart anymore. She kicked the chair on the ground, breaking it, pieces of wood flying across the room. She knocked down the burned candles, ignoring the pain in her arm, her breathing heavy, tears blurring her vision.

She cried, lifting the table and throwing it against the wall, the drawings resting on it sent flying across the room, falling, slowly and inevitably. She was drowning in the thoughts of her, her scent, her unbreakable spirit. The memories kept her underwater, like a heavy chained ball kept a prisoner from liberty. She abruptly stopped trashing the room, wiping the tears from her eyes. Picking the drawing that had fell just before her feet, the one where Lexa was asleep, and peaceful. Where Lexa looked exactly like she had looked mere seconds after her _death._

“Forever…” Clarke said, her voice hoarse and cutting, before chuckling bitterly, crushing the paper and throwing it away.

She leaned on the end of the bed, ignoring the blood stained sheets, before slowly falling to the ground, her back pressed against the hard wood of its base.

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, the sound echoing in her body and head, like a metronome hammering in her skull. It was so deafening she probably would have missed it, if only the sound of her voice wasn’t so engraved in her very being.

“Clarke…” the name so meaningful on her lips, always said with so much reverence, respect, _love._

“Clarke…”

“Go away. I know you’re in my head. I’ve been imagining you every fucking day for the past week. I don’t want to see you anymore. It hurts too much. Leave.”

“Clarke. Please. I’m not in your head. Look at me.”

Clarke felt a soft touch on her cheek. It was cold, and hazy, but it was still real.

She turned her head, Lexa knelt down beside her.

“Lexa?”

Clarke took in Lexa’s silhouette, pale and fading against the background, only illuminated by the lightning of the moon, shining through the balcony’s open space.

“I waited for as long as possible, but I need to leave Clarke. For good. I just couldn’t leave without saying a final goodbye.”

And Clarke’s heart broke, all over again, like the thousand times it had before. So raw and vulnerable from the past few days, so painful from all the heartache that she had never stopped feeling since the death of her father.

“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave me, leave me all alone, after everything you said, and then come back just to leave again. No fucking way.”

“I am so sorry, Clarke.” Lexa softly said. The words on her lips like a prayer for the dead. “I never meant for all of this to happen.”

Her eyes were grey, the green that Clarke had loved so much, and still loved, long gone now.

“Please Lexa. It hurts so much…” Clarke said, her voice shaking, tears falling yet again, an ocean of pain hiding behind the blue of her eyes.“Don’t leave me.Everybody did. Not you too. I won’t survive it, I won’t…” She was shaking her head, holding tightly her legs, rocking back and forth.

“I am so sorry. I love you so much Clarke.” Lexa’s thumb still stroking the side of her cheek.

She leaned in and pressed her lips against Clarke’s, the gesture so utterly heartbreaking. Clarke kissed her back, her own warm and wet lips contrasting so very tragically with Lexa’s cold ones.

“I’ll always love you. Remember that”

Her body started quivering, before ineluctably dissipating into the cool night air.

Clarke, struggling to breathe, clutched at her chest, heart wrenching sobs shaking her body. Lexa was gone now. Forever. Leaving her painfully and excruciatingly

_alone._


End file.
